writing.somethin.lethargic

No… It was not a nightmare…
it never was. It was always a beautiful dream, the dream of us, of me and her.

The green meadow, the
hills and the soothing breeze from the sea below… the hugs, the kisses, the
touches… And the best thing was… there weren’t any goodbye kisses. In these dreams, there weren’t
any goodbyes. Everything was simply… perfect.

My nightmare began in the morning…

I open my eyes, waking up, and the nightmare begins… the dream vapors into
the freshness of morning’s air…

So there I was, always, in every morning. Sitting at the edge of the bed… Inhaling
the fresh air deeply, rushing them into the lung. I hoped that the air were
able to pump the blood as quickly as possible, so that my brain could start doing
its job… thinking, tracing the remaining essence from the dream…

But I always failed… Typical me… what an irony… always starting your morning
with a failure…

To compromise my failure… I took a cigarette, light it up and I start to smoke
as I walked to the window. One hell of a way to start a morning eh?

I tell you why… I just love the way the smoke blows from my mouth, the way it flies
and breaks into micro particles. And let’s not forget the sunshine shall we? Add the ray from the sunshine here and there…
there you go… you have it. A show with the
very own Broadway quality. The window as the stage, the smoke as the dancers
and the sun as the spotlight … a splendid sight indeed…

And then… I laugh…

to be continue… eh… edited…

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